The Push

Sigh. No, I didn't call him back, and I won't. There's nothing he can say that would explain 2 months of silence. The only thing that can explain that is the fact that he is a(n) douchebag/asshole/jerk/fucker/shit bag/etc. He made it clear that I'm not important to him, so it's done. Finite. Over. El fin.

Even though I am still of the mindset that it's over for good, I feel like the phone call has pulled me several step backward. I have already prepared what I'll say if he texts me, but I doubt he will. I just know that if I engage him in dialogue, I'm starting back at square one. I had accepted that I would never hear from him again, and I had locked away everything about him in a far corner of my heart. He was no longer at the surface where awareness is because I had finally pushed him down into the unconscious. That's not to say I still didn't think about him constantly, no. It was more of vague thinking, like it was there in the back of my mind but not the focus of my attention like it once was.

It's actually kind of confusing because in my mind, it's almost like he died. I had accepted that he was "gone." By death or by choice didn't really matter because the end result was still the same. Gone. So, for him to make contact is almost like a dead person coming back to life. It's really weird!

Sigh, now I'm back to letting him go again, and pushing him back down into that unconscious space. That's where he belongs, I guess.

10:41 p.m. - Saturday, Jul. 13, 2013


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